


Contained

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asphyxiation, Family Feels, Gen, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, Protective Sam and Cas, Rescue, Scared Dean Winchester, Tied-Up Dean Winchester, encasement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Turns out TFW aren’t the only people interested in the threat Michael poses.But the men who take Dean are convinced the archangel is still in residence, and they have a plan to take care of Dean and Michael both.





	Contained

**Author's Note:**

> If you are claustrophobic, you may find this story triggering.
> 
> if you want more details (spoilery) please scroll to the end notes before reading.

“What the fuck do you want?” Dean snarled. He lashed out with his bound hands, but the closest guy just jerked out of reach and then his buddies pounced.

His ankles were already tied together, so there wasn’t much Dean could do to stop them picking him up, heaving his weight between them then over to the box.

Fuck, no.

He fought harder, then, but it was just as futile, and they dropped him hard, knocking the wind out of him. His head cracked off the wood, leaving him dizzy for long enough that they were able to wrap his ankle and wrist ropes around hooks fastened inside of the box, stopping him from sitting up or moving much at all.

“Okay, pull the buckets over here,” one of the men said. Dean winced at the sound of metal grating on concrete, wondering what the hell the fuckers were doing, and figuring he wouldn’t want to find out. 

He wasn’t wrong.

Two of them heaved a bucket up over the box, near his feet, and tipped it.

Dean yelped as something cold and heavy slopped over him, pooling like sludge around his legs. He managed to raise his head to look, and ….

It was cement.

“What the fuck are you doing!”

One of the men, the one Dean figured was the boss, braced his foot on the edge of the box, and leaned his forearms on his knee.

“Saving the world, Dean,” he said. “You ever seen _True Lies_?”

“You want to beef up on your movie trivia?”

He panted as another bucketful was poured into the box, spreading sluggishly but now covering up to his knees.

The guy grinned. “I’m good. No, the part where the bad guys seal their nuke up in cement so the goods guys can’t get at it. We’re kind of taking a leaf out of their book, Dean.

“See, you’re carrying around the equivalent of an unexploded nuke, and who knows when it’ll go off.”

Michael? This was about Michael?

“You’re behind the rest of the class,” Dean said. He winced as another bucket of cement poured in on him, this time covering up to his groin. The weight was confining, and he could feel panic edging up against his self control.

“Oh? How so?”

“He’s gone,” Dean snapped. “Vacated the premises. I don’t know where the bastard is.”

The guy shook his head, looking almost disappointed. “Dean, Dean. Such an obvious lie. I happen to know he dragged your ass around the country while he got his Frankenstein freak on, and your brother couldn’t do a damn thing about it. You think I’m going to believe you that he just, what? Gave you up?”

Dean glared at him. For a complete stranger, he knew a whole hell of a lot, except how the most recent chapter of that shitty novel ‘Dean Winchester Makes Bad Life Choices’ had ended. Not that Dean wasn’t still scared of Michael; even Cas couldn’t tell why the archangel had left his body, and as long as Michael was out there, loose, Dean knew he wasn’t going to feel safe, not ever.

But this…

“That’s pretty much what he did,” he said. “Whether you believe it or not.”

The man shrugged. “I don’t. But if it turns out to be true, well, then I guess I’ll just apologise in advance. Can’t take the chance, though, Dean. And once we have you nice and sealed up in this box, if your buddy is still in there, then that’s where he’ll stay.”

He rapped the side of the box with his knuckles. “And this is where you’ll stay, Dean. You know, it’d kind of be better if Michael wasn’t in there. When this is done, it’ll be done. But otherwise, he’ll keep you alive, and trapped, buried in about sixty cubic feet of concrete, for as long as it takes him to get out. And he’ll never get out.”

Dean tugged hard at the ropes around his wrists, but they held and the hook held and his legs were too covered now for him to even try and get them free.

“If he is in here,” he said, “you gotta know a box and some cement won’t hold him!”

The guy looked almost pitying as he stared down at Dean. “This box will.”

Then he stepped away, out of Dean’s sight, and a couple of the other guys appeared with another bucket, straining as they hefted it up high enough to pour the contents into the box.

This time it spattered over Dean’s torso, landing like a sodden blanket, and almost immediately it was harder to breathe.

++

When the gunshot rang out, Dean wasn’t sure if it was real or he was just imagining it. 

It felt like hours since he’d been able to take a single, unimpeded breath; everything seemed distant and out of focus, and he knew he probably wasn’t going to still be alive, or at least conscious by the time they’d filled enough of the box to cover his face.

But then he heard a scream, and someone - one of the guys - went soaring literally over the box, as if someone had just grabbed him and launched him across the room.

He could hear yelling, the voice familiar, but for some reason he couldn’t make out the words. It was like his brain just wasn’t working right, any more, and he wondered if he was already so oxygen deprived that it never would again.

Wouldn’t matter before long though.

And then two _very_ familiar faces were peering down at him, and Dean was pretty sure he’d never seen either his brother or their angel looking so homicidally pissed.

“Took your time,” he said, or thought he did; he couldn’t hear properly, and he only then realised why, because some of the cement was in his ears, muffling everything.

Sam’s lips were moving and Dean managed to read his lips.

_It’s okay, hold on, we’ll get you out_.

Cas just reached into the slowly setting sludge, and tore loose the ropes from the hooks holding Dean down, and then just lifted him, right up and out, cradling him easily in his arms.

Maybe, any other time, Dean would have bitched the angel’s ears off about the bridal carry, but right then, body heavy in a way that had nothing to do with being three quarters covered in wet cement, lungs aching with the fight to breathe, he had nothing left in him.

Cas had him, Sam was there, and he was safe.

And that was his last thought as he slumped back in the angel’s arms.

++

He didn’t wake up until he was back in his bed in the bunker.

Consciousness returned slowly, giving Dean time to adjust, to remember his family had come for him, and to accept he was in his own bed, at home, and everything was okay.

Well, as okay as things ever got for them, but he’d take it.

He sat up carefully, and realised his body was pain free, and clean, and he could hear and he could breathe and-

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam said.

He was in the doorway, staring at Dean in open concern, and then he was sitting sideways on the bed and Dean was being held tight up against him.

“Dean, you’re fine, you’re safe. We’ve got you, okay?”

“It’s alright,” Cas said, and Dean peered over Sam’s shoulder to see Cas was there, too, looking distressed.

“I’m…. I’m okay, Cas.”

The angel nodded, but Dean could see the flash of anger in his eyes; not for him, he knew that.

“Those…. Those guys.”

“Aren’t going to be near you again,” Cas said, savagely, and Dean nodded, wondering at the deathwish some people had to come after any of the Winchester family.

Sam eased him back, cupped his cheek, stared at him. He felt stripped under Sam’s gaze and tried to look away, but Sam held him still.

“No, don’t,” he chided, gently. “Dean, don’t push this down and try to just ignore it. They almost…”

“I know,” he snapped, and instantly regretted it. When he went on, he softened his tone. “I know. But they didn’t. You guys came and you got me and _they didn’t_ and that’s it.”

Maybe he was playing it down for them, because he doubted he was going to get what had happened out of his head, or his nightmares for a long time, but he wasn’t the only person shaken up by the whole thing.

The next few days were probably going to be rough (he wasn’t wrong; neither Sam nor Cas seemed content to let him out of their sight for very long, further evidence that they’d all taken a knock over those guys trying to bury him alive) but they were Winchesters, the three of them.

They’d get through.

And they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Dean is placed in a box which is slowly filled with cement to try and contain ‘Michael’s vessel”.
> 
> He is rescued before being completely covered, but the weight of the wet cement on his torso does cause some breathing issues.


End file.
